


Last Words

by BloodEnvy



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Ashes Scene in Avengers: Infinity War Part 1, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 14:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16348805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: Spoilers for 'Infinity War'Just before the events of IW, you and Rocket have a fight. With it still unresolved when you... run into Thor, he goes to Nidaviller and you go with the others to confront Thanos. The tension between you lingers, so what happens after the snap?





	Last Words

“God damn it, Rocket, I live here too!” you shouted, shoving his hardware to the side. He’d been consumed over the last three days with the idea of some new bomb or weapon or something he hadn’t bothered to explain, and as a result, had taken over your tiny, shared storage-room-turned-bunk with his new project. He’d been basically ignoring you the entire time, and now you’d come back to your room to find your own belongings tossed unceremoniously aside to make way for his work.

The tools and scrap metal clanged in complaint as you pushed them to one end of the tiny workbench, and you righted Groot’s old pot on the shelf. He was way too big for it now, but you kept it out of sentimentality.

“Would you watch what you’re doin’ with that?!” Rocket growled, scampering forward to rescue whatever he’d been making from the pile. “You wanna blow a hole in the ship?”

You bent down to rescue your things from the floor, your jaw tightening in anger as you realized the cover of one of your books had torn. “I might now. Damn it, Rocket, this isn’t something I can just replace on Xandar or whatever. I brought this with me from Terra! I’ve had it since I was a kid!”

“So? It’s just a book, it’s not like it’s important.” Rocket scoffed, waving a paw. He jumped up onto the seat in front of the bench, placing his creation carefully back on it. “You’ve read it before, anyway.”

“Seriously?” you asked incredulously, tears of frustration beginning to burn in your eyes. “You can’t just apologize?”

“Your shit’s always in the way. You’re always junkin’ up my area,” Rocket retorted harshly. “I can’t work with you in my space!”

“It’s _our_ space, Rocket!” you shot back. “That’s the whole point. You didn’t want to share a bunk with the others, remember? That was the deal; you, me and Groot in here, not just you and all your crap!” You tossed one of his tools on the floor for emphasis, and he growled as it bounced on the metal flooring.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it!”

“ _You_ asked _me._ Not the other way around.” you reminded him, teeth digging into your cheek. When Mantis had joined the crew, there’d been a lot of debate about what the sleeping arrangements were going to be. Rocket had eventually approached you and offered to let you share his bunk so Mantis could have your old bed, and surprised, you’d agreed. It had been four years since then, and despite your close relationship, Rocket still acted sometimes like you were some kind of inconvenience, especially now Groot was bigger and spent most of his time in the other bunk where there was more room.

“Yeah, well maybe I shouldn’t’ve!” Rocket said harshly as he turned around, but you saw his expression soften slightly into something more regretful as he saw the tears in your eyes break. You dropped the books and tchotchkes on your bed, still clutching the one with the torn cover. “Y/N, I didn’t--”

“Screw you, Rocket.” you muttered, turning on your heel and leaving, slamming the door behind you.

 ***

“Where we have to go, is Nidavellir.”

“That’s a made up word,” Drax said.

“All words are made up.” Thor pointed out, still going through the supplies. He reached where you were leaning against the wall, and glanced at your face. “Excuse me.”

You straightened and moved out of his way, shrugging at Quill when he gave you a disbelieving look. You weren’t about to argue with a frickin’ Norse God over a few snacks. You moved to stand by Mantis instead, kicking the makeshift bedding you’d slept on the last few nights out of the way as you went. It had been three days since your argument with Rocket, and since then, you’d taken to sleeping out here rather than share a room with him. You hadn’t spoken a word to him other than some sarcastic snipes, and he hadn’t apologized either.

Every now and then you’d noticed him stop and look at you, his mouth open as if he was about to say something, but he’d always reconsider, shrug and go back to what he was doing. The others had definitely noticed -- your sleeping arrangements and jibes weren’t exactly subtle -- but they’d barely mentioned or questioned it. Quill had asked once if you were okay, and Mantis had offered to help you sleep when she’d seen your pile of blankets… and Drax had made a few blunt comments on the tension between the two of you, but otherwise, they were leaving it alone.

“Nidavellir is real?” Rocket asked. He clambered up onto the table, ears perked up in interest. “Seriously? I mean, that place is a legend. They make the most powerful, horrific weapons ever to torment the Universe. I would very much like to go there, please.”

You scoffed, arms folded over your chest. “Of course, you would.”

Rocket shot a glance at you quickly, and opened his mouth as if he was going to speak, but Thor cut him off, speaking to the group. “The rabbit is correct, and clearly the smartest among you.”

“Rabbit?”

“Only Eitri the dwarf king can make me the weapon I need.” Thor continued, turning to Rocket. “I assume you’re the captain, sir?”

“You’re very perceptive.”

“Oh, for f--” you started, cutting yourself off as Groot glanced your way. To say Groot’s behaviour was learned was an understatement, and you were trying to set a good example.

“You seem like a noble leader. Will you join me on my quest to Nidavellir?”

“Lemme just ask the captain. Wait a second, it’s me!” Rocket laughed. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Wonderful!”

“Except that _I’m_ the captain,” Quill objected, and you saw Gamora roll her eyes. You smirked, but your smile disappeared again when Rocket told him to be quiet. Quill turned to Thor, irritated. “Look, this is my ship. And I’m not going to… Wait, what kind of weapon are we talking about here?”

“The Thanos-killing kind.”

“Don’t you think we should all have a weapon like that?”

“No. You simply lack the strength to wield them.” Thor replied simply. “Your bodies will crumble as your minds collapse into the madness.”

“So, your average hangover, then?” you joked sarcastically, unable to help yourself. Gamora raised a brow at you and you shrugged, giving her a smile. Despite herself, she gave you a tiny one in response.

“Is it weird that I wanna do it even more now?” Rocket asked.

Thor nodded. “A little bit. Yeah.”

“If we  don’t go to Knowhere and Thanos retrieves another stone, he’ll be too powerful to stop.” Gamora pointed out gravely.

“I got it figured out.” Rocket announced proudly. “We got two ships, and a large assortment of morons. So, me and Groot and Y/N will go with the pirate-angel here, and the morons will go to Knowhere to try and stop Thanos. Cool? Cool.”

“Not cool.” you said plainly, and Rocket turned to you, his bravado wilting.

“You don’t wanna--”

“I’d only get in the way, right?” you said pointedly, and you felt Quill and the others shrink back slightly out of awkwardness. “You can’t work with me always in your space.”

“Y/N, I--” Rocket started, hopping down from the table.

You ignored him, turning your back to speak to Groot. “You look out for yourself, okay, sprout? I want you coming home safe.”

“I am Groot,” the plant grumbled quietly, nodding. He, like the others, wasn’t sure what was going on between you and Rocket, but you knew it was confusing him.  You gave him an apologetic smile, pulling a spare battery pack for his gaming device out of your pocket.

“For the ride?”

“I am Groot,” he smiled at you, his vines squeezing your hand for a moment as he took it from you.

Rocket cleared his throat awkwardly, but you didn’t turn around. “Come on, Groot,” he said, heading for the pod. Groot followed after him, eyes already back on the device’s screen. “Put that game down. You’ll rot your brain.”

***

You groaned painfully, wiping at the blood on your cheek with the back of your arm. Hissing slightly as your sleeve irritated the cut, you eased your right leg out slowly, gritting your teeth against the pain that shot up your leg. Cursing under your breath, you tried to roll up the cuff to inspect your ankle, unbuckling your boot and tossing it aside. Your ankle was swollen and bruise and you swore again as you realized it was probably broken.

“Y/N.” You looked up as Drax spoke, trying for a smile as he held out a hand to you. It came out as more of a painful grimace, but you took hold of his wrist and let him haul you off the ground and back on your feet. You’d come into the fight carrying the blasters that Rocket had modified for you, as well as a few grenades you’d pilfered from his stash under your bed. You’d even tucked a small, back-up gun into your boot -- it had been a surprising gift from Rocket a few months ago, bought during your last stop on Contraxia. It fell from your hand now, skittering on the rubble as you grabbed hold of Drax’s shoulder, your ankle collapsing as you tried to put weight on it. “You’re hurt.”

“I’ll be okay,” you said through a clenched jaw. Still, Drax slung your arm over his shoulder and let you lean your weight into his side. “Thanks.”

“Something… is… happening.” You turned to Mantis, confused, and your eyes widened as she suddenly collapsed into dust.

Drax glanced downwards and the hand he still had on your wrist dissolved, taking his arm with it. “Quill…?”

“Drax!” you stumbled as he disappeared into ash, surprised when someone caught you roughly by the arm. Nebula had moved forward to stop your fall, and her grip tightened on your arm as you tried to straighten up again.

“Steady, Quill.”

You’re head snapped around as you heard Stark’s voice. Quill’s back was to you, and you made a move to reach out to him before you saw his body begin to crumble as well. “Aw, man…”

Your eyes darted to your leg as the pain in your ankle eased… your foot was disintegrating, your leg swiftly falling away with it. You grasped at Nebula’s arm, her shoulder, turning your eyes on her. She didn’t pull away like you half-expected; her other hand came up to try and steady you as you fell against her. “Nebula… I--”

And you were gone.

***

The remaining members of the forces against Thanos -- bar those of Wakanda -- had taken up residence in the Avengers facility in New York, intent on finding some way of recovering before renewing the fight. Rocket had been given a room, but he spent most of his time in Stark’s labs, building and then tearing apart weapons again and again, muttering to himself that it wasn’t enough.

He slept in there too, for two or three hours at a time, always fitfully, and while the Captain or Banner occasionally checked in, the latter doing work of his own occasionally, it was Natasha that stopped by the most, silently leaving food for the raccoon on one of the workbenches. He was yet to thank her, too caught up in his own grief and anger to recognize kindness, but he no longer snarled at her, hackles raised, if she startled him.

It had been almost a year since the Battle of Wakanda, since Thanos had disappeared and taken the life of Groot and so many others with a snap of his fingers. He had no idea whether or not the other Guardians -- whether you -- had survived, and he’d been found drunk and destructive more than once by the others in the compound. Again, it was usually Natasha who could calm him down again, something Banner had once commented was akin to her influence on the Hulk, and he’d end up sobbing incoherently about everything he’d lost.

Still, he gave them all the information they could and worked on their gear in the hopes of giving them more firepower, and when FRIDAY announced one morning at almost six a.m. that there was an unidentified ship headed towards the compound, he’d been the first out onto the lawns, hope bursting in his chest.

His eyes had welled with tears as he’d been greeted with the sight of the Milano landing, his vision blurring. His home. He finally had his home. He took a few steps forward.

But when Nebula had come out with a man he didn’t know, her expression wary at the sight of all these unknown people standing behind him, his eagerness had faltered. Rocket stopped, his ears back, uncertain. Banner passed him, wrapping the man up in a bone-crushing hug. The man clung to Banner, his hands fisting in the back of his jacket.

Nebula had spotted Rocket immediately, and he watched as she swallowed, her gaze falling to the ground.

“Nebula…”

She met his eye, her usual stoic expression betrayed by the regret and the sorrow in her eyes. She shook her head.

Rocket felt his body heave, a silent, unfounded sob wracking through him without ever leaving his throat. It was like his entire being was rejecting the information, and he fell to his knees on the grass, ignorant of the Avengers eyes. Nebula stopped in front of him, but didn’t kneel. She stood straight, as if perfect posture could keep her unfeeling and unaffected.

“All of them.”

“They fought well.” Nebula said, her tone almost measured. She was staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused. “Thanos…” she swallowed. “They lost.”

“Y/N?” Rocket’s voice was thick with unshed tears, and he looked up at her plaintively. There was a long pause, heavy between the two of them, before Nebula brought herself into a crouch in front of him. She held out her hand -- in it she held the book with the torn cover. You’d patched it up with tape and it sat a little crooked, the corners well worn from over-reading. Nebula had found it on your seat in the cockpit, and she’d left it there almost reverently the entire journey to Terra.

“She was brave.” she said quietly, withdrawing her hand as Rocket took it with shaking paws. He clutched the book to his chest, the paperback bending against his fur with the pressure. “You should be proud.”

The tears broke then, and Rocket let out a wracking sob. Nebula almost stood, uncertain and uncomfortable with the raw emotion, but instead, she spoke again, her normally dismissive tone gentle. “Before she… before Y/N fell… she said something.”

Rocket looked up, tears streaking his fur. He’d lost Groot, he’d lost you… he’d lost every single member of his weird, little family.

“She… she said she loved you.” Nebula lied gruffly, standing. “I… I thought you should know.”

She moved away quietly, leaving Rocket to mourn in private. He didn’t move from that spot until almost midday, when the Captain came back outside to try and speak to him. Rocket ignored him, his tears long dry and his eyes unfocused, and got to his feet. But instead of coming inside like Steve suggested, he boarded the Milano. He didn’t look up as he made his way to your shared bunk -- he couldn’t face the idea of seeing the Milano empty. He climbed up onto your bed, burying himself under your sheets and closed his eyes, book still clutched to his chest.

 


End file.
